Page:Sophocles - Seven Plays, 1900.djvu/231

696–733]

Into the open daylight, ’mid the blaze

Of Helios’ beam. And, as it kindled warm,

It fell away to nothing, crumbled small,

Like dust in severing wood by sawyers strewn.

So, on the point of vanishing, it lay.

But, from the place where it had lain, brake forth

A frothy scum in clots of seething foam,

Like the rich draught in purple vintage poured

From Bacchus’ vine upon the thirsty ground.

And I, unhappy, know not toward what thought

To turn me, but I see mine act is dire.

For wherefore should the Centaur, for what end,

Show kindness to the cause for whom he died?

That cannot be. But seeking to destroy

His slayer, he cajoled me. This I learn

Too late, by sad experience, for no good.

And, if I err not now, my hapless fate

Is all alone to be his murderess.

For, well I know, the shaft that made the wound

Gave pain to Cheiron, who was more than man;

And wheresoe’er it falls, it ravageth

All the wild creatures of the world. And now

This gory venom blackly spreading bane

From Nessus’ angry wound, must it not cause

The death of Heracles? I think it must.

Yet my resolve is firm, if aught harm him,

My death shall follow in the self-same hour.

She cannot bear to live in evil fame,

Who cares to have a nature pure from ill.

. Horrid mischance must needs occasion fear.

But Hope is not condemned before the event.

. In ill-advised proceeding not even Hope

Remains to minister a cheerful mind.

. Yet to have erred unwittingly abates

The fire of wrath; and thou art in this case.

. So speaks not he who hath a share of sin,

But who is clear of all offence at home.

. ’Twere well to say no more, unless thou hast aught

To impart to thine own son: for he is here,

Who went erewhile to find his father forth.